Doctors and Nurses

25th October 2011 Tuesday

I feel less raw and ragged at the edges today.

I spend most of the day with my father. The district nurse comes and takes a phial of his blood. The doctor comes with a medical student and says my father must take the diuretic he suddenly decided he didn’t want to take any more. My father is more interested in quizzing the medical student who comes from Sri Lanka. My husband comes and takes me out to lunch - including meltingly delicious sweet potato wedges - while I’m waiting for the call from the doctor and my father is sleeping.

I come home and put a joint of beef in the oven for my father’s breakfasts and then fall on the bed.

At supper my husband and I make a kind of chutney peace. But there is still some stickiness between us.

When I phone my father tonight his voice sounds croaky and distorted as if he hasn’t got his false teeth in. But he says he’s eating birthday cake so he must have. He takes a long time to write in the diary that I’m coming tomorrow at 9.30 with a sample bottle to test his urine. He says he’ll remember but I don’t think he will.

Today I also remembered how grateful I am to have this time with him. That I didn't want to be anywhere else. Even though the day I'd planned didn't happen - I lived the one that did.